


five ships lord pigeon ned stark didn't approve of and one he actually did like

by janie_tangerine



Series: pigeon!ned stark [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: 5 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - Ned Lives, Crack Treated Seriously, Fix-It of Sorts, Inappropriate Humor, Multi, Pigeons, Robb Stark is a Gift, The Author Regrets Everything, Warging, i blame a lot of people and a lot of things, in which ned is still a pigeon and keeps on doing his thing, the ships above are all pre-happening or hinted except for the cat/ned and throbb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 08:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10301783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: in which pigeon!Ned is back and doesn't appreciate most of his kids' choices in partners.Most.





	

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so, the pigeon!Ned sequel was *not* what I thought I'd write at any point soon but it happened for reasons that would be fairly long to disclose so I'm not even going into it and I'm just... leaving this here. Yes, it's exactly what it says on the tin. Yes, it's probably crackier than the original. No, I wasn't under the influence of anything when I wrote this thing. I asked for advice on tumblr re what should happen in this so I have to thank tumblr user lordhellebore for the sansan suggestion and two anons for the jaime and sam suggestions. The rest is all me, for bad and for good. Nothing belongs to me (lol we wish) and for once I didn't steal the title from anyone. /o/ have fun and idk if this is gonna have any other installments but I turned it into a series just in case.

 

1.

 

A lot of things have happened to Bran Stark that he hadn’t foreseen even in his wildest dreams.

One would assume that at the top of the list he would put _losing the use of his legs forever and then finding out he could warg into living beings_ , but it’s absolutely not the case.

The top of the list is the conversation he’s about to have with his brother and mother right now on account of his father, whose… conscience or whatever it is that one should call it is _inside the gray pigeon perching on the windowsill_.

Good gods.

He wishes he had never climbed that fucking tower.

“Mother? Robb? I – uh. I have a message for both of you. From Father.”

The two of them, who had been sitting with Luwin at the table in what used to be Ned Stark’s solar, both perk up and turn towards him at once. They haven’t noticed Father perching over there, but Bran figures it’s a good thing.

“What does he say?” Mother asks… excitedly?

Bran doesn’t even know how to even _start_ speaking. He thanks the gods again that Hodor sat him down and left already because having this conversation perching on his shoulders would have been even more embarrassing.

“It’s, uh, about… the same thing. Pretty much. Mother, he, er, says he understands that you don’t wish to marry again but if _he_ is the only reason you’re not considering it then you shouldn’t, uhm, take that into account. Robb, as far as _you_ are concerned… I don’t know what he meant with _I know that you’re otherwise involved_ , or – I think I know but I’d rather not even discuss it. But it’s, uhm, _unheard of_ that the Lord Protector of the North _and_ Lord of Winterfell hasn’t found a wife after being in charge for two years. So, he’s urging you to reconsider your stance and reminding you that Walder Frey planning _that_ wedding won’t hold on as an excuse for much longer. There. That was it.”

Bran _does_ expect his mother’s expression to turn slightly annoyed, and Robb’s to turn crestfallen.

But then they turn and _look at each other_ in a fairly complicit way, which is not news admittedly, Robb always was close with Mother, but –

“I suppose,” Mother says, “that either your father or one of his _operatives_ is around to hear this conversation?”

“Uh, yes,” Bran says, staring at the aforementioned pigeons perching neatly in front of him and behind her shoulders.

“So if I say now that I am categorically _not_ marrying again, he _will_ hear, right?”

“He – yes,” Bran confirms. He didn’t know pigeons could _frown_ but that’s exactly how his father looks like right now.

“Well, then that’s my answer. I have no intention to have any more children from anyone else and this is the end of this conversation.”

 _Believe me, I would be relieved if I could never speak of it again_ , Bran doesn’t say.

“Well,” Robb says, “as far as I am concerned – it _is_ unheard of, but given that I am _otherwise involved_ and I would feel dishonest in not giving an eventual bride my full attention, and given that until now I have done quite all right for myself, I think I shall have to keep on… _not_ considering changing my stance.”

Bran sees the gray pigeon’s forehead hit the window’s glass.

He’s so _not_ warging into _anything_ before a week or so.

He sort of hopes their mother talks some sense into Robb, but then she looks at him and _smiles_ and says –

“Given that I also am not marrying when in theory I’m expected to, and given what we had to go through since your father _did not quite die_ , I think I won’t be the person urging him to reconsider.”

Robb grins so brightly Bran can’t even bring himself to press a third time.

Well, _he tried_.

\--

 _Ned doesn’t know how Robb thinks he’s going to last much longer if he doesn’t strengthen his claim and marry already, but he’s seen enough. And while he doesn’t know why Cat wouldn’t urge him, well, he also feels a bit relieved that she hasn’t reconsidered her stance – admittedly, he asked her to because of duty, not because he wants to see her married to someone else even if in the current situation he can’t be a_ husband _to her now, can he?_

_Well then, there’s nothing to do about this._

_He_ had known _Theon Greyjoy would eventually have been trouble since the moment they finalized the terms when his father’s rebellion ended._

\--

“Robb.”

“Yes?”

“Your father might have ruined _another_ two cloaks.

“Well, it might have been another –”

“Robb, if it wasn’t him it was on _his_ orders and you know it.”

“… Right. Well, he wants me to get _married_ and I sure as the seven hells am not doing it, so it’s either me or your precious cloaks. What’s your choice?”

“If I ask my sister whether she’d consider marrying you in order to get suitors off her back, given that you wouldn’t even share a bed, you’d think he’d be _happier_?”

“… Why not? Ask her. An alliance with the Iron Islands _without_ your father being part of it cannot hurt that much.”

\--

 _Fine, Asha Greyjoy wasn’t exactly Ned’s first choice when he urged Robb to_ reconsider _, but it’s admittedly better than nothing and better than a lot of other options._

 _Given that he cannot exactly influence any kind of decision, better_ anyone _over nothing_.

 

2.

 

Admittedly, Arya might have gotten a bit distrustful given how the last couple of years have gone, so maybe she’s… being too distrustful.

But listen, she _doesn’t_ like the Tyrells. Margaery first and foremost. Fine, they’re only here on a _courtesy visit_ , but what happened the last time the court was here for such a thing? She has _reasons_ to distrust people, all right?

And fine, her husband seems a bit too friendly with Loras Tyrell, and his wife seems to ignore him thoroughly and viceversa, but she really doesn’t like how she was pretty much making doe eyes at Robb for the entirety of the first evening.

Right, before he announced that he had reached an agreement with Asha Greyjoy for _an alliance_ which would obviously need to be strengthened through a wedding, and then she had looked slightly crestfallen.

 _Then_ she had pretty much latched on to Sansa, who had been… probably overjoyed about it, and Arya would have liked to ask her if she hadn’t learned _anything_ in King’s Landing, because there’s no way Margaery is being friendly just because she likes her sister’s company.

At least, she’s fairly sure that _her father_ isn’t pleased about it either, given the way his wings sort of fold tightly over his back whenever he glances at the two of them from his perch on her mother’s shoulder.

After dinner, she follows them out of the castle and towards the graveyard, where Sansa is apparently excited to show Margaery _something_.

That something, it turns out, is Lady’s pristinely kept grave –

Which is also surrounded by a few tiny pigeons nesting nearby and some more others.

“Aren’t they just _adorable_?” Sansa asks, petting a couple of the chicks on the back. They chirp.

Margaery doesn’t look too convinced and only pets one when Sansa picks him up and pretty much insists.

A moment later, her green silk dress is hit by guano falling from somewhere above their heads – _none_ of that falls on Sansa, though, who immediately apologizes and offers to walk Margaery back to Winterfell at once.

Well, from the way she looked, Arya figures she’s not going to visit again anytime soon.

She has absolutely nothing against that notion.

\--

_It’s not that being a pigeon has made Ned Stark somehow… a tad too distrustful, but he thinks that given how he ended up in this situation he has a reason to have changed his stance on certain topics._

_Such as, maybe trusting people too much._

_Never mind that he thinks he_ can _entirely distinguish now when someone is being sincere and when they’re not and he’s fairly sure that no one named Tyrell is here for any reason that’s not convenience, and he was assured of that the moment Margaery Tyrell started to talk to Sansa about her brother Willas in Highgarden and about how lovely of a place it was and how he was looking for a wife._

_He just made sure Sansa was saved from one nest of vipers, he doesn’t need her to end up in another._

_Of course, he’d trust both Robb and Cat to put a stop to any unsavory match, but honestly, he’d rather make sure of it himself._

_He’s not particularly sorry when a few of his operatives ruin Margaery Tyrell’s dress. It’s about his daughter’s well-being, after all, and if that’s enough to make Margaery change her mind about trying to be friends at all costs, well, too bad._

_Ned is_ not _making his old mistakes all over again, seven hells._

 

3.

 

“Seven hells, and I thought I wasn’t being _literal_.”

There’s pretty much no other comment Sandor Clegane can make when faced with the little bird _actually feeding a bunch of bloody baby pigeons next to her direwolf’s grave_.

Honestly, he already was surprised when Stannis Baratheon came to find him in King’s Landing (he had defected to his side the moment he realized his former employers were going to lose the war and while there’s no love lost between them Stannis is a fairly better employer than Cersei Lannister could have ever been) and informed him that Robb Stark had kindly written in order to ask if he’d consider moving into _his_ service.

Then he was even more surprised when he learned Robb Stark asked because _his sister_ asked in turn.

And now it turns out that the little bird is _living up to that name_ , out of all things.

“Why, ser,” she says, _petting one of the damned things_ , “it turns out you weren’t too wrong after all. Anyway, I suppose you want to know why I asked Robb such a thing.”

“As _employing me_? Bugger if I _don’t_ want to know,” Sandor admits, moving closer. She’s looking at him without even blinking now, and on one side it’s _flattering_ , on the other it’s – he doesn’t know what the fuck he should do with it.

She _smiles_. What in the seven hells…?

“You tried to warn me,” she tells him. “And I didn’t listen. And after then – you did try to help me anyway. You might scorn knighthood, but you’ve been a truer knight to _me_ than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Little bird, you aren’t saying –”

“My brother insisted that when I want to visit somewhere else or to leave Winterfell or for any other reason, _I_ should have someone guarding me since he refuses to put a proper guard together, here, all the time. I suggested that he sent for you.”

Sandor, for the first time in his life (or at least that he can remember) is completely fucking bloody speechless.

“Are you _serious_?” He blurts, wishing he could say he was drunk – this would be the kind of conversation he could hallucinate while being wasted out of his mind. Too bad that since he didn’t want to give Robb Stark a bad impression he’s perfectly sober.

“Very much so.” She’s still grinning like it’s her nameday.

This is too good to be true. There has to be _some_ catch. It looks like a scenario from one of the songs she undoubtedly still buys into and Sandor Clegane’s lost his taste for songs along with the right side of his face.

“Little bird, I –” He starts, and then he’s interrupted by one of the thrice-darned pigeons flying _directly at him_ and flapping their wings right into his face. “Shit,” he mutters, and swats the bird away without outright punching it. Hopefully.

“ _Father_ ,” Sansa says a moment later, reproachfully. “He can be trusted. Don’t have the others ruin it now, will you?”

“ _What the fuck_ ,” Sandor says. “Your father is –”

“Currently residing inside one of the pigeons. I _know_ , no one wanted to believe it until Bran actually _spoke_ to him, but never mind – oh, how silly.”

“ _Silly_?”

“It’s… the kind of information that is only shared with _trusted_ people around here. Which means that my brother would be very, _very_ regretful to see you leave.”

The translation is obviously _my brother will have your head before letting you leave with the information that Ned Stark is apparently alive_ inside a pigeon. But then again, Sandor thinks, the whole part where the White Walkers were defeated also thanks to a _pigeon army_ is not untrue – he’s heard enough from enough people to be sure that it wasn’t a collective hallucination.

Well, he thinks, feeling slightly reassured, in _no song in existence_ the fair maiden’s father was a bloody _pigeon_.

“I never said I wanted to leave now, did I?”

Sansa looks utterly _delighted_ at that, and Sandor’s breath gets caught in his throat when her soft, thin fingers touch his wrist and _squeeze_.

Sandor is fairly sure that one of those pigeons is secretly tearing holes in his cloak, but all things considered he can’t really care less.

For that matter, they can do whatever they want to his cloak, if this is what he gets in return.

\--

_Ned would have shaken his head, if pigeons could do such a thing._

_Sadly, it’s not a gesture that translates very well in between species, and so he doesn’t. Instead, he vows to keep Clegane under strict control. He chooses a few of his smartest and most trusted operatives, puts them on Clegane-watching duty and hopes that Sansa has better luck in choosing who to trust than he had when he still was alive._

_And if Clegane proves a disappointment, well, Ned isn’t above getting involved directly to do something about it_.

 

4.

 

If, three years ago, someone had told Gendry Waters that he’d escape from King’s Landing with the City Watch running after _him_ because turns out that his until-then unknown father was _King Robert_ and that he’d be escaping along with Arya Stark, as in, _the daughter of the Warden of the North_ , he’d have laughed in their face and asked how much ale they had before coming up with such a weird notion.

Then again, there was the part where he actually had no idea he was escaping along with _Arya Stark_ , which in turn hadn’t stopped him from getting attached to someone he’d have never had a chance to even run into in normal circumstances.

The following part where after the Lannisters were defeated _Stannis Baratheon_ (as in, _the new king_ ) actually confirmed that there was no way he _wasn’t_ related to his brother and he ended up in _Dragonstone_ is something he couldn’t have even conceived, period, and honestly he feels glad he hadn’t stayed in King’s Landing – the king’s wife didn’t seem very eager to have _him_ around of all people. But Dragonstone could have been worse, the King’s Hand checked on his well-being regularly and Gendry had just started sort of getting adjusted to it –

Until Lord Davos showed up informing him that the king and Robb Stark were looking at ways of _strengthening their alliance_ and it seemed like they discussed it and the only person in the family who seemed willing to _marry_ in order to do it was apparently Arya, if it was in the far future, and if it was _with him_.

Gendry had about fainted.

 _Now_ he’s standing in Winterfell dressed in clothes that are thankfully more austere than the average when it comes to _fancy_ things, Arya is standing in front of him dressed in male garb with her brother _grinning_ behind her, what in the seven hells, and she’s… blushing?

Gendry’s seen her _kill people_ , for the love of the Seven.

“Well,” Robb Stark says, “since my sister was very eloquent when this matter was discussed but seems to have lost her taste for eloquence right now –”

“ _Robb_!” Arya shouts, outraged, but Robb doesn’t mind the kick she sends directly into his shin.

“– I shall give you a small summary of it, Lord Gendry.”

He’s a _lord_ now.

Gendry feels like he’s going to faint long before this conversation is over.

“… Please? Your Grace,” Gendry blurts as a grey pigeon with a certain austere look to it flies in small circles over their heads before perching on Arya’s shoulder.

He thinks it was on Lady Stark’s shoulder first. Maybe it’s domesticated.

“See, King Stannis and I think it’s time that our Houses join their forces, and as we all know there’s no better way to do it than through marriage. Unfortunately, my hand own is already promised to someone else, and my sister Sansa is understandably not interested in _marrying_ for the foreseeable future. As far as my brothers go, Bran has… other issues to deal with right now, and Rickon is too young in the first place.”

Which is fair. That obviously left Arya, but then it means –

“Now,” Robb Stark goes on so very _amiably_ , “that we asked her opinion, because of course it had to be up to her. And she replied, word for word –”

“Robb, don’t you _dare_ –”

“ _If it’s Gendry I guess I could_.”

Gods, Gendry told her that she could be his _lady_ once if not his family.

He _still had no bloody idea of who she was when he said it_.

He’s going to fucking faint.

Arya is going so red in the face he has a clue the two of them are about to faint.

“So right now the only question left is,” Robb Stark keeps on, “what is _your_ opinion on this arrangement, my lord?”

 _Seven hells_. Now they want _his_ opinion.

Gendry’s going to fucking _die_.

“Of course,” Robb says, and _why is the pigeon staring at Gendry like it would tear out his eyes with that tiny beak of his if only he gives the wrong answer,_ “goes unsaid that we should wait a few years and that I am afraid Arya isn’t going to care much for ladylike things, but –”

“That’s – that’s not a problem,” Gendry blurts out, and then Arya looks up at him and wait, why is she looking pleasurably surprised? “I mean, it’s not like, uhm, she was much ladylike when we met anyway, and to be honest that’s what saved our collective arses, er, sorry, I –”

“My lord, do go on,” Robb goes on, grinning so wide Gendry thinks it has to hurt. “My future lady wife would beat you by miles when it comes to swearing. It’s nothing that will make me change my opinion about this match.”

“I mean, er, of course, I would be delighted. If – if _she_ actually wants _me_. That is.”

Arya’s eyes go from _pleasurably surprised_ to _downright annoyed_ , and then she steps forward and punches him in the side. _Hard_.

The bloody pigeon _helps her_ pecking him on his wrist.

The hell –

“You’re so _stupid_ ,” she proclaims, “if _that_ ’s your problem.”

The pigeon _pecks him again_.

Hard enough to draw blood.

“Ouch,” Gendry says, moving his hand away. “Well, _he_ doesn’t seem to like me.”

“Oh, he does,” Robb says.

“How so?”

Robb shrugs. “He pecked you instead of ruining your clothes. A lot of others couldn’t say otherwise. Shall we finish this conversation inside, then?”

Gendry follows the whole mob inside, and _is Stannis smiling ever so slightly_ , and why are he and Robb saying that _maybe the third time will be the right one_ , and –

 _Why is that bloody pigeon still staring at him_?

\--

 _Ned had honestly hoped_ better _for his children. He doesn’t dislike the kid, far from it, and he looks like a better person than Robert could have hoped to be looking at it in retrospective, but given that he had imagine Sansa and Arya marrying two nice, gallant lords who’d have treated them the way they deserved and with the respect their name deemed them… well, given that Sansa seems set on not marrying,_ ever _, but at the same time seems to think that Sandor Clegane_ is _somehow a gallant knight and Arya is apparently going to be the person who finally unites House Stark and House Baratheon… by marrying a_ bastard _son of Robert’s, he has this suspicion that nice, gallant lords aren’t in the cards here._

_Well, Waters isn’t a bad kid. Surely better than Sandor Clegane, Ned thinks, and patience if he can feel his feathers ruffling just at the thought._

_He’ll learn to live with it._

_Seven hells, he thinks, maybe all things considered he needs to be somewhere else for a bit. He’s been in Winterfell too long and he’s putting on maybe a bit too much weight. Flying around for a bit might help him clear his head, and he probably should check how Jon is faring at the Wall these days – he hasn’t been since the White Walkers were defeated but he’s heard interesting things, and given that among everything else, Jaime Lannister is_ serving out for his crimes there _without taking the black for some kind of agreement his brother managed to barter with Stannis, well, he’d quite like to see how_ that _is faring, too. Just for curiosity._

_Well then, it’s decided. He’s going to take a small trip to the Wall._

_Of course,_ after _he instructs his operatives to keep their eyes open in Winterfell._

 

5.

 

There are worse things that could have happened to him, Jaime thinks. All right, the Wall is cold and miserable and hardly the ideal place to live out your years, but Tyrion managed to struck him some kind of deal according to which when Lord Commander Mormont deems his crimes atoned he might actually leave it.

Not that he has any place to return to, and the fact that the only time he saw Cersei after they were defeated she only had words of scorn for him – as if he could have won them a war _from a cell inside Riverrun_ – had put a tombstone over his burning need to be wherever she was.

Which, currently, is somewhere full of Silent Sisters.

(As far as Joffrey goes, Jaime has no idea of how Stannis saw fit to punish that little bastard, and he doesn’t even particularly care. He’s only glad Tommen and Myrcella got to stay at court even if neither of them is going to inherit a throne anytime soon. Good thing Stannis might have been stern and everything else one might assume of such a man, but he never was cruel.)

If anything, because if after spending _one year_ yearning to be with the person you love _that_ is their first reaction to you –

Sometimes, Jaime wonders when did her feelings change or if they actually never were what he thought at all, and then he stops considering that option because if it was true –

He’s just _not considering it_.

Anyway, other than training young recruits who admittedly should never have to spend their life here – honestly, who condemns a kid to the Wall for _stealing some bread_ , there’s a reason why he thought half of the laws concerning this kind of thing were as much shit as knightly oaths –, and other than arguing with Ser Thorne every other moment to (what he has noticed) the joy and appreciation of about most of the recruits younger than twenty in the entirety of Castle Black _and_ of about half of the _other_ recruits, he’s also met interesting people.

None is as interesting as the daughter of Lord Selwyn Tarth.

Lady Brienne used to be, apparently, in Renly’s Kingsguard. Then, when Renly renounced his so-called claim and sided with Stannis and didn’t need a Kingsguard anymore, she had fought on his side anyway, and then came here to fight White Walkers, and hasn’t left because _there might be the need for skilled fighters_.

He’s also sure she took pity on most of the young recruits, too. And honestly, the first time he saw her – tall, large shoulders, ugly face, broken nose, crooked teeth and straw-like hair with just those two blue eyes that looked halfway pretty, he had thought she was some kind of joke.

Then she _almost_ beat him when he asked to spar amicably and he changed his mind at once – she’s hardly _fun_ and she can be stuck-up and she has some honestly naïve ideas about knighthood and what oaths actually _mean_ , but it turns out that after you get her _slightly_ drunk she’s a lot less stuck-up.

(He also might have told her about Aerys after one _Kingslayer_ too many while he was in his cups. She hasn’t called him like that since. He had felt inordinately pleased about it.)

Also, she, too, hates Ser Thorne. _He_ hates them both because they pretty much took over his duty when it came to training recruits – when the two of them showed up, it was basically Ned Stark’s bastard teaching _everyone else_. Given that said bastard’s barely six and ten at this point, Jaime figured he might have needed a break or ten.

Anyway, there haven’t been sightings of White Walkers, and Jaime’s had plenty enough of time to get used to her presence, and gods help him, he thinks he kind of likes her. Somehow.

(Right, he might have woken up raging hard one night after dreaming about _her_ rather than Cersei, but that’s neither here nor there.)

It’s not as if he plans to do anything about it, especially since she seems like someone who’d have no quibbles about punching you in the face should you displease her. Still, if in the last few months he’s showed off _more_ than usual, well, _blame him_. Especially when, while she was drunk, she had told him she swore she’d only ever marry someone who could beat her in a swordfight.

Jaime has done that _plenty_ of times because he’s still the best swordsman in this realm for better or worse, even if he hasn’t noticed it, but listen, so what if he wants to actually impress her? At least she appreciates his skills, he can see it.

So he’s in the yard, trying to show a few of those kids who can barely even hold up a sword how you disarm three opponents at once with minimum effort while she’s watching along with Jon Snow, and he’s actually pulled that off when he feels something _wet_ falling down on his head.

“Shit, what – oh, _fuck_ ,” he groans.

Pigeon guano.

 _Again_.

It’s the fourth time in _two days_ , what’s even the bloody problem? He sees the pigeon in question fly away and he thinks better of trying to kill it – it’s too high.

“Fuck,” he says, “I’ll, uh, wash my hair,” he groans.

“That’s fine,” Brienne says, “I’ll take them.” She’s also _slightly smirking_.

Well, he thinks as he sighs and goes to find some water, back when she arrived she wouldn’t crack a smile if paid.

Maybe if _this_ is what it takes in order to make it happen, he’ll deal with whatever’s the problem with the pigeons in this fucking frozen wasteland.

\--

 _Fine, Ned admits to himself, that was fairly mean. But given that he’s in his current situation also thanks to Lannister’s actions, never mind that while it seems like he talked things out with both his family and Bran when it comes to_ actually having caused Bran to become a cripple _, there’s also that to thank him for._

 _Admittedly, Bran had pointed out, if he_ hadn’t _done it, he wouldn’t be able to communicate with Ned now so maybe not all evil comes to do harm, but still, he’d have fucking rather not._

_Also honestly, given what he saw of Brienne Tarth, a nice, wholesome, honorable girl like that one deserves a lot better than Jaime Lannister._

_Ned thinks he’ll have his fun for a long while, when it comes to this particular topic. He_ did _say he’d stay around the Wall for a few weeks, after all, and it takes him little to fly back to Winterfell anyway._

_If pigeons could have smirked, Ned Stark probably would have._

_He’d have never done such a thing in his former life. But that is_ then _and this is_ now _, after all._

 

+1

 

“Wasn’t that a bit mean?”

“Jon, are you talking to _the pigeon_?”

Jon’s face flushes slightly and Sam would like to know what’s going on, especially given what was the question he actually asked.

But then Jon ignores him and looks at the bird again.

“Can I just tell him? He wouldn’t say.”

“I wouldn’t say _what_?” Sam asks, and then the pigeon’s wings spread wide and… he… _shrugs_? If that’s even a shrug? Sam doesn’t know but he kind of wants to.

“Guess it was a yes. Very well.” Ghost growls softly at Jon’s feet while Jon motions for Sam to come over and sit on the bed – Sam does, sitting next to Jon.

“Sam,” Jon asks after a moment, “have you ever read anything about warging?”

“Yes,” Sam replies, recalling a book or two he read on the subject at once. “It’s – magical stuff, though? I mean, from what my books said it was a common thing beyond the Wall a long time ago, and now it’s kind of the stuff of legends, but –”

“It’s not,” Jon interrupts. “My brother can do it. Bran, I mean.”

“ _For real_?”

“Yes,” Jon says, and Sam can see that he’s smiling without even noticing as he thinks about his brother. “I – I think I can. I mean, I might have done it inside Ghost a few times, even if I’m not sure if it was just dreams or not. But – I am afraid it might a family thing. And – well.” He looks at Sam, then at the pigeon. “Let’s just say that my lord father is not quite as dead as most of the realm thinks. Yet.”

“You mean – you mean, he’s _in there_?” Sam says, nodding towards the pigeon.

The pigeon coos in reply.

Sam almost screams, but then he stares at the pigeon with some more intent, not casually as he had before.

Good gods. It’s _the eyes_. Jon’s right – that pigeon has smart eyes. _Human_ eyes, somehow. And he _shrugged_ before. And he was here to witness what happened with the whole pigeon army fighting White Walkers deal.

“Oh, so – so it was him organizing… you know… that time a _lot_ of pigeons helped us?”

“Yes,” Jon replies, pleased.”I know it sounds strange, but –”

“Oh, it sounds… fascinating, actually,” Sam replies instead. Then he turns towards the pigeon and clears his throat. “Uhm,” he says, “it’s… a pleasure to meet you, my lord.”

Sam hadn’t know what to expect.

Not for the pigeon to coo and for him to… _jump on his leg_.

“I think you can pet him if you like,” Jon says, sounding amused.

“Isn’t – that _weird_ , to you?”

“I have done it plenty of times,” Jon smiles. “No reason why you shouldn’t, if Father agrees.”

Sam doesn’t know what in the seven hells he’s doing as he caresses the pigeon, but the feathers are soft and he’s warm and he’s not trying to bite at his fingers or something of the kind.

Sam smiles. He can’t wait to hear some more about this.

\--

Well, well, well _, Ned thinks,_ at least _one_ of my children has some _taste_ here.

 _It’s not that Samwell Tarly is polite, that he doesn’t pull feathers when trying to touch Ned, or that it’s obvious that he’s nowhere near the kind of person who’d turn their cloak or damage a friend (so no one Ned needs to give warnings for if it comes to potentially hurt one of his children). It’s that the way he looks at Jon – gods, Ned might have been blind to Jaime and Cersei Lannister, but at least those two were good at hiding it. Sam isn’t doing anything to hide_ it _, but the way Jon looks back at him when Sam’s not noticing, Ned can notice it even too much._

_(He thinks it’s the way he used to look at Ashara once. A few times he had thought he had seen his own face in Jon’s. Just a few times, though.)_

_And honestly, it’s a good thing that Jon found_ someone _also in this cold, forsaken place that Ned should have probably dissuaded him from joining permanently. Alas, nothing can be done about it for now, but it’s good to see that Jon is doing fine and he has someone with him who_ really _wants Jon’s happiness, and who is Ned to try and put a stop to it?_

_Given the way they smile at each other, Ned thinks Lyanna might not have wanted the Wall for her son but she might have wanted him to smile like that on a regular basis._

_He thinks that he’s going to save all his worst instincts for Jaime Lannister, as long as he’s here._

_He also thinks he’s going to stay a while, just to be sure the situation is under control when it comes to both Jon and the White Walkers._

_Yes, he decides, it’s a perfectly acceptable plan, and he shall go through with it._

_Starting immediately. And if Jon or Samwell Tarly don’t talk to each other soon, well, he won’t be above giving them a small nudge in the right direction._

_It wouldn’t be the first time he gives anyone in Westeros a small nudge in the right direction, anyway, and patience if most of his children won’t hear it._

_At least, hopefully, one of them_ will _._

 

End.


End file.
